Operation: Shelter
by Magi Silverwolf
Summary: They were finally going to get a dog! Clint had wanted one since he was a kid and now his partners had finally agreed! Wait, what was Natasha doing with that stinky weasel-snake! (for Jet)


**Disclaimer:** I do not own the original canon nor am I making any profit from writing this piece. All works are accredited to their original authors, performers, and producers while this piece is mine. No copyright infringement is intended. I acknowledge that all views and opinions expressed herein are merely my interpretations of the characters and situations found within the original canon and may not reflect the views and opinions of the original author(s), producer(s), and/or other people.

 **Warnings:** This story may contain material that is not suitable for all audiences and may offend some readers. Please exercise understanding of personal boundaries before and during reading.

 **Author's Note(s):** Interesting tidbit, but originally Natasha was going to have picked up a _cat_. However, when I went looking for my post of interesting cats, I came across a video of ferrets playing, and my brain went ferret-mad. Another interesting tidbit is that ferrets are illegal in New York City (as of 1999 and for a very stupid reason) and silver labradors aren't considered _good dogs_ (again for stupid reasons). Please remember that characters are allowed to be stupid/mean/whatever without me also believing it.

 **Dedication:** Jetainia, who asked for this fic a lifetime ago.

 **Challenge/Competition Block** :  
 **Stacked with:** Shadows of Consequences; Seriously Important (Not); Sky's the Limit; Terms of Service; Fem Power Challenge; Slicing Life  
 **Representation:** BC Use; Slice of Life; Triad; Agents; Natasha Romanoff  
 **Bonus Challenge(s):** Machismo (Soft); Second Verse (Not a Lamp; Ladylike – Stoic; Found Family; Middle Name; Tomorrow's Shade; Unwanted Advice; Unicorn; Three's Company)  
 **Word Count** : 1185

-= LP =-  
Operation: Shelter  
-= LP =-

"We came here for a _dog_ , Nat," Clint complained to Natasha's back. She ignored him and kept on walking with her tiny burden. This was turning out just plain _wrong_. "We agreed to get a _dog_. All of us agreed and we just spent the last week dog-proofing the townhouse."

"So we did," she agreed readily. He couldn't see what she was doing but judging on the happy chuffing coming from her arms, she was likely petting the beast she had picked. He signed nastily at her back. "Say that verbally. I _dare_ you. Remember Bueno Aires?"

"Damn it, Nat! That's not fair. You can't keep bringing that up!"

"Oh, _can't_ I?"

"You can't get a _ferret_ , Nat," Clint argued instead of trying to counter anything she said in that voice that was as smooth as silk and as pointed as one of her favorite daggers. It was just better for everyone. That didn't mean that he was going to give up his plan to finally have a dog like he used to dream about as a boy. "They're illegal in New York City. That's probably why that _thing_ is here in the first place!"

"So we'll move to New Jersey," Natasha answered blandly, like moving was exactly that simple. To be fair, with their lifestyles and career choice, she wasn't far off. Being a super-secret agent meant having to be able to pick up and leave everything at a moment's notice. It had been one of their biggest hurtles in convincing Phil to agree to a pet at all. "Everything is legal in New Jersey."

"They stink!"

"So do you," she countered as she pushed open the door to the reception room where they had left Phil. He had wanted to handle the paperwork personally. Clint thought it was code for something, but Phil did love paperwork, so maybe that was just his paranoia talking. Sure enough, the man was standing at the counter smiling as he finished a surprisingly thick stack of papers. Nat held up the _beast_ she had scooped out of its kennel the moment she had spotted it and addressed their partner. "I need this."

"We agreed on a dog," Phil said. His tone was neutral. Natasha pulled the squirming weasel against her chest to cradle it between her breasts. Then she did the _face_ , the one where her face went all hinky and it was like blankness was the only thing that she could show. The fact that it was the same expression she had worn when Clint had hauled her into a SHIELD safehouse instead of killing her as ordered was not lost on either him or, apparently, Phil, who was sighing like Hill had just reported that Clint was nerfing the baby agents from the vents again. "We'll get the necessary supplies on the way home after Clint finish picking out his dog."

"I can still get one? Awesome!"

Not giving anyone a chance to change their minds, Clint darted back into the holding area. Like they had before, the dogs went off on one side while the cats (now _sans a certain ferret_ , which was now weaseling into Natasha's good graces) watched from the other side with silent distain. He looked over the selection of dogs, all of which were eagerly trying to get his attention. Well, almost all, he corrected as he spotted an older dog laying down in the back of the furthest kennel.

A feeling like the one he had when seeing Phil for the first time washed over him and Clint drifted closer without thinking.

The dog was a pale gray just a few shades darker than white. His ears were floppy, and both were missing multiple notches, giving them a frayed look. He had his head resting on his front paws, not bothering to lift it as Clin came closer. His dark gray eyes locked onto Clint as he knelt down. His tail gave a tentative wag before going limp, like he had already given up on Clint actually choosing him.

It reminded him of how Natasha had looked as she had waited for him to shoot her as ordered.

Well, the choice was clear, wasn't it?

It wasn't hard to get the dog to follow him once he opened the kennel. He heeled without more than a waggle of Clint's fingers and kept pace easily. Phil and the attendant turned immediately towards them as Clint opened the door while Natasha was slower as she had been juggling her ferret. The thing was now wrapping itself around the back of her neck, under her hair. She raised a single eyebrow at him in challenge.

"I need this," Clint declared, deliberately mimicking Natasha. Phil sighed again and looked upwards for a moment, probably praying for patience with their pseudo-rivalry. The dog settled at Clint's feet with all the steady calmness of a service animal. Clint scratched him behind the ears and was rewarded with him leaning against his shins. "He's mine."

"We haven't fully evaluated whether he's adoptable yet," the attendant said, sounding apologetic. "He was picked up off the streets and that can make strays potentially dangerous to children." Her eyes cut to Natasha's ferret before skittering away as if worried about drawing attention from the suddenly frowning redhead. "Or smaller prey-like pets."

"We don't have either," Natasha said blandly. When the attendant's eyes glanced back at the ferret now perched on Natasha's right shoulder and baring its fangs as Natasha stroked under its chin. The tiny weasel managed to look innocently menacing just like Natasha could in anything other than her catsuit. Clint grudgingly respected the thing, even if he was still determined to hold a grudge. Before the attendant could reply, Phil spoke up.

"We'll happily waive any potential liability for your shelter." Phil tapped the top of a second stack of forms before pushing it across the counter towards the attendant. "Do you have a form for that?" The attendant just blinked at him. Which was a normal response to Phil's official Agent Voice and totally didn't make Clint want to drag Phil into a closet to see how close he could get to successfully mussing the suit, because Clint had self-control … and maybe a bet with Natasha that he could go a month without doing that. Phil reached into his inner suit pocket, pulling out a folded piece of paper. "No matter. I have a boiler plate liability waiver right here."

"You carry spare paperwork on you?" The attendant sounded dazed. Natasha gave the woman a smile, politely baring her own teeth. The ferret gave a quiet hiss as if to back up the mild threat. Maybe the furry little snake wasn't so bad.

"That's why we love him," Natasha commented lightly. Phil raised an eyebrow at her. Her smile became more playful. "That and his chicken parm."

"Oh, definitely his chicken parm," Clint agreed. The dog gave a single bark to voice his own agreement at the same that the ferret made a sound between a huff and a cluck.

Maybe this was just right.

-= LP =-  
An Ending  
-= LP =-


End file.
